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Love. Just love.
‘Hey hey, sis! Check you out!’
I look past Jackson to see the door open and a queue as far as my eyes can see...brothers, wives, Granny... I give a soft laugh.
‘The Careys are in the house,’ Jackson murmurs.
‘And now you’re one of them,’ I say, turning my hand over so I can squeeze his. ‘I love you, Jackson Black.’
‘Love you too, my naughty elf.’
EPILOGUE
One month later
I OPEN THE door to Jackson’s flat and frown. I can hear music—not just any music, but Mariah Carey at her finest: ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’.
‘Jackson?’
I step inside, pushing the door closed behind me and stop still. Stunned doesn’t even cover it. Filling the living area is a Christmas tree, its lights twinkling, its glass baubles in various shades of gold shimmering. It’s stunning. Exquisite. But it’s the end of January. Where do you even get a tree as late as this?
I sense movement and turn on the spot and—freeze.
No way.
Jackson side-shimmies into the room and starts to mime! Actually mime Mariah Carey! And he’s wearing...
‘Oh, my God, what are you wearing?’
‘You don’t like it?’
He does a little jig that has his Santa hat swinging on his head, his red jacket with white fluffy trim falling open to reveal his tattooed chest, a hint of biceps, and I cover my mouth with my hand, my eyes watering up.
‘I thought it would be right up your street.’
He does a roll that has the bare muscles of his chest rippling all the way down to the tight V disappearing into a wide Santa buckle and bright red shorts...
‘You do look pretty fine, but you, in a Santa costume?’
I shake my head as he continues his act, extending his little jig my way and I’m torn between salivating over his gorgeous body and giggling at this new festive version of the man I love.
‘I told you I owed you a decent Christmas. Just you wait until you see what’s in my sack.’
I can’t help it, I erupt, my entire body vibrating with all-out laughter and he stops and pouts. ‘Right, that does it, time to punish my naughty elf.’
He lunges forward and sweeps me up in his arms. I let out a shriek but there’s no stopping his stride for the bedroom.
‘Is that...turkey I can smell?’
‘Yup.’
‘And, hey, is that Granny’s special eggnog on the side?’
‘Yup.’
‘Mulled wine?’
‘Of course.’
